Black Opal
by topazchild
Summary: The prince is less than helpful when the people around him try to save him from an assassin.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Please read and review.**

Black Opal

"What's in the box?" Arthur paused in the act of eating a sausage to look at the end of the table.

"What box?" Merlin was plumping a pillow from Arthur's bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw the prince stand and walk around toward an ornately carved box. "Don't open it, Arthur."

The blonde-haired young man ignored him and put his hand on the lid. Prat, Merlin thought. He hurried over with the intention of slapping his hand down on the lid but was way too late. The prince had unfastened the latch and was opening the box.

_Onslaep nu! _The warlock hastily muttered a sleep spell, and Arthur crumpled slowly onto the floor, a chair crashing over beside him. The serpent-like creature who emerged was dark green in color with yellow eyes and a crown-shaped crest upon its head. Down the center of its back was a row of webbed spikes. It made a hissing sound, and its movements were similar to those of a king cobra's. Its lethal gaze was directed at the space where Arthur had stood seconds earlier. Two palace guards drawn by the commotion burst into the room.

"No!" Merlin yelled. "It's a basilisk! Cover your eyes! _Get out!"_

The guards had time to register two things: the prince lying either dead or unconscious on the floor and the strange creature vaulting from the carved box onto the table.

"_Get out of the room!" _Merlin repeated. "_Close the door!"_

One of the guards, more cautious than the other, started backing toward the open door, his hand over his eyes. The other, brave but foolhardy, rushed further into the room drawing a dagger as he came. The basilisk, its upper body erect and swaying like a cobra, turned its head to glare balefully into the man's eyes. With a cry of horror, the guard fell, dead before he hit the floor.

The other man, backing up, reached the doorway. He yelled at Merlin, "I'll get help!" He slammed the door behind him.

"No," Merlin said, under his breath to the closed door. "Don't get help. No more people." He had moments at best before the knights, Gaius, or the king himself came in response. On the thought, he sealed the entrance. "_Learh fearnancai!" _

He was going to have to destroy the basilisk himself, hampered by his inability to look directly at it. He would be depending primarily on his sense of hearing and his knowledge of the room. He lowered his arm from his face, his eyes tightly closed, and listened. He could hear it moving. It was still on the table. He needed to remember where the prince was lying in relation to the rest of the room or he could inadvertently kill him himself. The warlock risked a quick look, using his peripheral vision as much as possible. The creature had slithered to the side of the table away from where Arthur lay. Good.

_Ic the withdraf. _The basilisk was thrown several feet into the air but landed unhurt, spitting venom and hissing in fury. Where the venom hit the table, smoke and fire curled up. _Mistake_, thought Merlin. He couldn't afford many of them. He hastily uttered a spell to extinguish the fires.

Merlin's brain decided to kick in. Gaius had told him a basilisk could only be destroyed by seeing its reflection. The warlock became coldly and deliberately rational, as deadly in his way as the serpent. Time and the world coalesced into just this room, this moment, this space. The basilisk had identified him as an imminent threat. He heard it drop from the table to the floor and start to move in his direction. He hurriedly shifted his position and threw the dressing screen to the floor in front of him. "_Scildan!" _He reenforced his action with a shield spell.

Dimly he registered running footsteps in the outside corridor and then pounding on the door.

"Arthur! Merlin! Are you all right? Can you reach the door?" It was Sir Leon.

"Arthur! Open the door." The king.

More voices. He heard Gaius. No! He refocused. He needed a reflective surface. He risked a quick glance at the table. The metal tray he had brought Arthur's breakfast on was still there. The basilisk was getting too close. He wasn't sure the shield spell would stop it, and he needed more time.

"_Ic the withdraf!" _The second spell threw the creature against the far wall. It again landed unhurt, turning onto its belly faster than thought and elevating its upper body. Hissing and furious and very lethal, it was coming for him.

Boom! The people in the corridor had found something to use as a battering ram. He wasn't sure how long the door would hold. He was out of time. Merlin uttered one last desperate spell. "_Onbregdan!"_

The shiny tray lifted from the table. His fingers in the air, the warlock turned the tray perpendicular to the ground, spilling plate, goblet and utensils. He hastily moved the tray across the room and dropped it in front of the creature's eyes. He heard a blood-curdling shriek and then its death throes. Just then the door splintered, and he could see the end of the beam of wood.

Merlin looked hastily around the room, seeing the broken dishes, the burned places on the table, the dead basilisk, the dead guard, and - the unconscious body of the crown prince. He was not going to be able to explain any of this. He had seconds to decide what to do. He quickly spoke a waking spell then moving away from Arthur, he laid down on his side facing away from the door.

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The door had been sealed from within, and Gaius suspected that Merlin had done it himself. With a loud splintering sound, the door gave. Three guards rushed in to secure the room. Close on their heels came Sir Leon and Percival followed by the king and Gaius. The four paused just inside the ruined doorway and surveyed the damage.

Arthur sat up, blinking in confusion. He saw his father and the others near the door. What had happened? He saw one of the palace guards lying on the floor. He looked dead. Arthur had a sudden flash of Merlin being in the room with him earlier. Where was he now? He cast a panicked look around. His servant was lying on his side facing away from him. Arthur got onto his hands and knees to crawl over to him just as his father and Sir Leon reached him.

"Take it easy, Arthur. Where are you hurt?" Uther asked.

Arthur sat up again. "I'm not hurt at all. I feel fine. Why am I on the floor? What happened?"

"You don't know?" Sir Leon asked.

"No." The last thing he remembered was opening a box which Merlin had told him emphatically _not_ to open. Arthur felt a wave of an unaccustomed emotion. Guilt. Did he cause this?

Gaius, standing by Merlin's supposedly unconscious body, looked across the room and saw the basilisk. He knew without being told that the warlock had killed it. _Impressive, Merlin._

"Sir Leon," the physician said, urgently. "There's a basilisk in the room. It's dead but make sure no one touches it. Even dead, their bodies are venomous."

Sir Leon turned and saw it and immediately reenforced Gaius' command. "Guards! Make sure no one touches the creature."

"Yes, sir." The three guards stationed themselves around the body of the basilisk.

Arthur sprang lightly to his feet, the sight reassuring the king that he was indeed unharmed. He hurried over to look at the lethal creature to the annoyance of his father.

Taking their new assignment seriously, two of the guards moved protectively between the prince and the basilisk. "Arthur," his father commanded, "move away. Now." Arthur did so with an impatient shake of his body.

Gaius looked down again at Merlin. Unseen by all but himself, the boy's blue eyes were open and aware, and the fingers on one hand uncurled and flattened against his chest. He was quite probably unhurt, but it wouldn't do to appear unconcerned. He knew as well as Merlin that the warlock would never be able to explain his actions. Uther would kill him.

"Sir Leon," Gaius said, injecting a worried note into his voice. "I need one of your men to carry Merlin back to my room."

"Of course." Sir Leon nodded at Percival who easily picked up the slender young man. The knight turned toward the door but found Arthur blocking his way.

"Wait." Arthur grabbed hold of his servant's wrist where his arm dangled and laid it across his stomach. "Merlin?"

"Let Gaius have him," Uther said, impatiently. Why did his son have this ridiculous attachment to a servant?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts!**

Chapter Two

"You and Arthur are both lucky to be alive." Gaius sat in a chair beside Merlin's narrow bed. The dark-haired young man was sitting propped up by a thin pillow. He had just finished relating to the physician what had happened.

"I know. I'm hungry. Can't I get up?" Merlin said in a wheedling tone.

"I've sent someone to the kitchen to get you a late breakfast. I want you to be in bed when Arthur comes to check on you," Gaius said, sternly.

"How do you know he'll even bother?"

"He'll 'bother,' Merlin. He's under the impression that you're injured."

The warlock looked sulky. The outer door opened, and footsteps were heard in Gaius' room.

"There's Arthur now," Gaius said.

"That's not Arthur," Merlin said, suddenly tense. "That's -"

"Gaius?" It was the king. Merlin and Gaius exchanged alarmed looks. The physician gestured at Merlin to lie back down.

"Yes, Sire, I'm coming." Gaius stood up hastily.

"Stay there," Uther said, coming up the steps and entering the little room. "I wish to speak with, uh, Merlin, isn't it?"

"Yes, sire," Gaius said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The king most certainly knew the name of his son's personal servant.

"Is he able to get up?" Uther demanded of Gaius.

"He's very weak, Sire," the physician said, apologetically.

"All right," the king said, looking annoyed. To Merlin: "My son remembers almost nothing of what happened earlier today. I want you to tell me everything you remember."

Merlin sat back up and tried to look as stupid as possible. "I brought Prince Arthur's breakfast on a tray, then I -"

"Yes, yes." Uther said, impatiently. "Skip to the part where the basilisk came out of the box."

"Basilisk?" Merlin looked confusedly at Gaius.

"The creature I was telling you about earlier," the physician said, kindly. "It's very deadly."

"Oh, no," Merlin said, "Is Prince Arthur all right?"

The king ignored Merlin's question. "How did the box get in my son's chambers?"

Well, _that_ he didn't know, Merlin thought, feeling himself on firmer ground. "I don't know, Sire," he said, truthfully.

"Sir Leon questioned the surviving guard about the box, and he claims to know nothing about it," Uther said to Gaius.

Just then footsteps were heard entering Gaius' room. It was the servant bringing Merlin's late breakfast. "Gaius? Is anyone here?"

The physician excused himself to the king and left the little room. As soon as he was gone, Uther grabbed Merlin's arm and jerked him forward. "If I find out you're lying to me-"

A second set of footsteps was heard. "Arthur," Merlin said in a low voice.

The king threw the servant's arm back down and looked at him with an arrested look on his face. Seconds later, Arthur bounded up the steps and entered the little room. Much as the king disliked it, there was a bond between the two young men that he couldn't deny.

"Father," Arthur said with a slight nod of his head. He looked from one to the other.

"Arthur, you are not to return to your chambers until Gaius has deemed it safe. I have ordered the servants to prepare one of the guest rooms for you."

"Yes, father."

Uther turned and left the room. Merlin kept his gaze lowered listening. He could hear the murmur of voices as the king stopped to talk with Gaius. Arthur stood looking down watching him. A few moments later the king could be heard leaving. Gaius brought up a tray with Merlin's breakfast and started to put it on the little side table.

"No, Gaius," the prince said, taking the tray and putting it on his servant's lap. "Merlin needs to eat."

The physician nodded and left the room, and Arthur sat down. "Well, go on, eat. My father giving you a hard time?"

Merlin shrugged. "He's worried for you. He doesn't know how the basilisk got into your chambers."

Arthur shifted on the chair and looked uncomfortable. "I nearly got you killed this morning, didn't I?"

"You nearly got yourself killed. Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell you not to open something. Dollophead."

"You don't give the orders, Clotpole."

"That's my word."

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Merlin sat watching Gaius mix together various herbs. It was a remedy for bellyache the physician had told him. Arthur had assigned another servant to handle his duties for the remainder of the day and the next couple of days leaving Merlin at loose ends. It wouldn't do to insist he was uninjured since he was trying to avoid further questioning by the king. One guard had been killed, one had barely escaped, and the king's son had been found unconscious. Lots of luck explaining that one, he thought.

There was something worrying at the edge of his consciousness. Something bad. What was it? He closed his eyes and cleared his mind for a moment. The palace guard. Uh, oh. He opened his eyes and went to stand near Gaius, partly to talk to him and partly for comfort. The physician glanced at him. "Is something troubling you, Merlin?"

"The king said that Sir Leon questioned the surviving guard. What are the odds that the king won't question him himself?"

"That's been troubling me also," Gaius replied. "Not very good odds, I'm afraid. Someone tried to kill his son. I can't see Uther letting that go. What exactly did the guard see?"

"I'm more worried about what he heard. I yelled at him - at both of them - there was a basilisk. I told them to cover their eyes. I knew what it was and how it kills."

As if summoned by their conversation, a young man appeared in the doorway. Despite the fact that the warlock and the physician had just been discussing him, it took Merlin a moment to place him. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with light brown hair, no longer dressed as a palace guard. "I hope I'm not intruding," he said, self-consciously.

"No, no, not at all. Come in," Gaius said. "Do you need medical help?"

"No, I came to speak with Merlin."

"This is the palace guard from this morning, Gaius," Merlin explained.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember me," the young man said, "everything was happening so fast. My name is Derek. I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

Merlin smiled. "You're welcome."

"I'm grateful, so of course, I don't want to cause problems for you," Derek said. "I asked my captain for some time off to visit my family. It's been granted." He smiled. "They live in a distant village."

Merlin was afraid to explore the topic of _how_ the guard could cause problems for him. He was fairly sure he already knew.

To fill the silence, Gaius commented, "I'm sure your family will be happy to see you."

Derek nodded and walked to the door. He turned back for a moment. "My grandmother had magic. She was a good person," he added, a bit defiantly. He left the room.

Merlin had trouble breathing for a few minutes.

"Take slow, deep breaths," Gaius said, helpfully, patting him on the back.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Elsewhere

"What do you mean the prince is still alive?" King Rufus (formerly the Duke of Badbury) glared at the colorless, nondescript man cowering in front of him. Stiles was a minor emissary to the court of King Uther.

"I'm sorry, Sire, the prince was found unconscious but otherwise unharmed."

King Rufus turned to the sorcerer standing nearby. "You told me the basilisk was always fatal." The king disliked the man but found his skills useful on occasion.

"It is." Tinsley pursed his lips, thinking. He turned to Stiles. "Was anyone killed?"

"Yes," the emissary said, "one of the palace guards."

"Hmmm. It's possible the man threw himself between the prince and the creature," Tinsley said to King Rufus.

"That would account for it. Yes," Rufus agreed. To Stiles: "Anyone injured?"

"No one of consequence, Sire. I believe one of the servants was carried out."

King Rufus dismissed that with a wave of his hand. To Tinsley: "Anything else in your bag of tricks?"

"Yes, Sire. There are several possibilities. Let me give it a bit of thought."

"Do that," the king replied. The sorcerer bowed and left.

"If I might be dismissed also, Sire -?" Stiles said, a bit timidly. "I need to return to Camelot before I'm missed."

King Rufus gave him an absent-minded nod. The king embraced his new fortunes in life with relish. The mourning period for his brother had been embarrassingly brief. The late King Radnor had had plans to expand his kingdom to the south, adding Camelot to his holdings. His brother saw no reason to abandon what were otherwise excellent plans.

It was common knowledge in the five kingdoms that Prince Arthur headed up Camelot's elite knights. Eliminate their leader and Uther's military force would be left in disarray, or so went the thinking of King Rufus and his late brother.

The king frowned in thought. The nearly completed fortifications at the mountain pass had been destroyed by a single sorcerer. The man had been hit by at least two arrows and was presumed dead. Oddly, they had found no body, but it was generally assumed the man had fallen into one of the area's numerous ravines.

Earlier

Uther was angry with himself. He had actually stopped his son from killing the man. Had in fact confined Arthur to his chambers under guard. And now his men had returned from patrolling the northern border with a startling report. The late King Radnor had had his men busily constructing a battlement at a crucial mountain pass while his brother, the treacherous Duke of Badbury (now king), had been here in Camelot stalling him. Uther did not like being played for a fool.

There was also a mystery. His men reported that the barrier had been destroyed. It had been blasted into a tumbled heap of stone and mortar. This was all well and good, but Uther wanted an explanation. Kings depended on intel, and events were unfolding without his knowledge. It was not too big a leap to assume that the attempt on his son's life was somehow connected. Uther was not a big believer in coincidence. Some person or persons unknown had entered his son's chambers and left a creature so deadly that it was a mystery Arthur was still living.

Uther knew his son to be a skilled warrior, trained from birth to ride, to fight, to lead men. Yet the king found recent events unnerving. He was determined to put protections in place to safeguard Arthur's life. To that end, he had summoned both Sir Leon and Arthur to a private conference. Upon their arrival, Uther dismissed advisors, courtiers, and guards from the room.

"Arthur, until we know who has tried to kill you, I don't want you going anywhere alone. Or accompanied only by your servant," the king added, closing off that loophole.

"Father," Arthur began in protest.

"I'm still speaking. You will not interrupt."

Arthur looked angry but listened in silence.

"If you go anywhere off the palace grounds, you must be accompanied by at least two of the knights. You will tell Sir Leon where you are going and when you plan to return."

Arthur was seething, but he didn't want to fight with the king in front of Sir Leon. He nodded curtly to his father.

"As you wish."

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Arthur regretted giving Merlin several days off. When he was feeling stressed or events seemed to be spiraling out of his control, Merlin's presence seemed to have a calming effect upon him. Feeling claustrophobic, determined to get out of town and away from the castle, Arthur demanded that Gwaine and Lancelot join him. Gwaine gave him a rather sardonic look but did as commanded.

Despite the feelings of recklessness and desperation that engulfed him, the prince managed to inform Sir Leon, with exaggerated courtesy, that he was going out riding, accompanied by two knights, and would be back before midnight. Sir Leon, equally polite, nodded in acknowledgement.

Once mounted, the prince took off, riding at full pelt like the devil was on his heels. Gwaine and Lancelot exchanged glances then tore off after him. Arthur finally slowed and seemed calmer when the two knights overtook him.

"Am I missing something?" Lancelot asked, curiously.

"You didn't hear the tale?" Gwaine asked. "Arthur and Merlin were nearly murdered by an assassin."

"Merlin?" Lancelot looked alarmed.

"Gaius said he'll be all right," Arthur said. "I gave him a few days off to recover."

Lancelot looked relieved. Gwaine related to him what had occurred, with Arthur correcting a few details.

"I'm not allowed to go anywhere unaccompanied," Arthur fumed.

"And here I thought it was the pleasure of my company you wanted." Gwaine grinned.

Arthur laughed a little, relaxing. The three rode further at a more sedate pace.

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Merlin was feeling a bit confined himself. Gaius did not want him out and about, looking healthy and inviting further questioning by the king. Only Merlin appreciated the double irony - not only was he not injured but until the would-be assassin was identified and captured or killed, the warlock did not want to let the prince out of his sight. He was nearly as worried as the king.

Later, when Guinevere dropped by to check on him, she told him that Arthur had gone out riding with Gwaine and Lancelot. Arthur and Gwaine together? he thought. Like that pair couldn't find trouble. He could only hope that Lancelot's levelheadedness would prevail.

Still, the warlock would have been dismayed at the speed with which his three friends found trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The prince and his two companions soon came across a man who had dismounted and was running his hand down the back leg of his horse. When he turned and straightened up, they could see he looked greatly distressed. He was a prosperous-looking man, well-dressed, with a neatly trimmed gray beard.

"Having problems with your horse, are you?" Sir Gwaine asked.

The man seemed relieved to see them and looked them over carefully. Arthur was not wearing anything visibly identifying him as the prince although Tinsley recognized him anyway from the description given him by both Stiles and King Rufus.

"Yes, he's pulled up lame and I must deliver a, uh, package before nightfall. It's urgent."

"Can we be of assistance?" Sir Gwaine asked, continuing to act as spokesman for the trio.

Tinsley hesitated, appearing to be torn by indecision. "You are knights of Camelot?"

"We are," Gwaine replied.

"Then I must trust you."

Arthur started to look a little impatient, wishing the rather pompous man would get to the point. His irritation communicated itself to his horse, causing the animal to move restlessly beneath him.

"My name is Pelham," the sorcerer lied. "I'm a traveling merchant. Two days ago, my ten-year-old granddaughter, Rowena, was kidnapped from our cart. As her ransom, the men responsible demanded a valuable object from me, a rare black opal. I was on my way to deliver it just now when my horse pulled up lame."

Gwaine looked a little skeptical, not quite buying the man's story.

"May we see the stone?" Arthur asked politely, speaking for the first time.

"Certainly." The man took an object wrapped in a soft cloth from his saddlebag. He held it in his left hand and carefully and rather dramatically peeled each corner down in turn. The stone was indeed a black opal shot through with blue and green fire. Gwaine, Lancelot, and Arthur regarded it in silence. The sight of it went a long way toward lending credibility to the man's story. Had a certain warlock been with them, he would have been alarmed at the magic radiating from the stone.

"It's a straight exchange?" Gwaine asked. "Your granddaughter for the stone?"

"Yes, I'm to row to a little island on the lake near here. You're familiar with it?"

All three men nodded. They had frequently fished and hunted in the area. "We know it, yes." Gwaine said. "Will your granddaughter be on the island?"

"They said she would," Tinsley said, looking appropriately worried. "They told me to make a circle of rocks and to leave the opal in the center of the circle, and once I had done that, Rowena would be released." He wrung his hands. "I know you probably think I'm foolish for believing anything they said, but what choice did I have?"

"How many men were there?"

"Three, that I saw," the sorcerer replied.

_Only three?_ Gwaine and the prince exchanged evil grins. Lancelot, less enthusiastic, had an uneasy feeling. He trusted neither the man nor his story.

"Oh, do let us make the exchange for you," Gwaine said, making it sound a rare treat.

After working out a few more details, Gwaine held his hand out for the opal. The sorcerer, pretending not to see Gwaine's hand, leaned across the knight and handed the stone instead to Arthur.

_He knows who he is_, Lance thought, with a flash of insight. As Arthur's hand closed over the stone, the knight watched the sorcerer's face. For just a fraction of a second, Lancelot thought he saw a gleam of triumph. _Trap sprung_.

A short time later

There were several small boats pulled up on the tiny beach. After a quick glance over his shoulder, Lancelot tried to talk his two companions out of rowing to the island. He told them of his suspicions regarding the man's story, but he might as well have been talking to a stone wall. Arthur was in a reckless mood, and Gwaine had been born reckless. After they both told him he didn't have to come, the knight fell silent. Wonder if Merlin will come to our funerals, he thought glumly.

The monster that slept at the bottom of the lake was reptilian in appearance. Related to the dragon, it had slumbered undisturbed for a thousand years. Now, drawn by the spell cast on the black opal, it awoke. At first it moved sluggishly, rising up from the depths through the layers of water. As it neared the surface, its speed accelerated. Momentum carried it into the air. Though it was some distance from the boat, the three young men got a clear view of its huge serpentine body, teal blue in color except for its bluish purple underbelly. There were winged fins on its body and alongside its head, and the frilled dorsal fin extending down its back was a phosphorescent aquamarine. Its tail ended in an arrow-like point.

"I've gone swimming in this lake," Arthur said in disbelief. "There are no monsters here."

"Sure about that?" Gwaine asked. He swore an oath.

"I told you we couldn't trust him," Lancelot said. "I doubt he has a granddaughter either." He quickly looked to gauge their position on the lake. The boat was two-thirds of the way to the forested island. "We can't make it back to shore."

"That narrows our options," Arthur said sarcastically in lowered tones, not realizing that it was the opal in his possession that drew the beast, not any noise they might be making.

Though the lake monster moved in wide easy loops, its body arching through the water, it soon became apparent it was moving in their direction. And it would reach them long before they reached the island.

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Tinsley sneered. That was almost too easy. He still wasn't entirely sure how the prince had survived the basilisk attack. According to Stiles, Arthur himself remembered nothing. He supposed it would remain a mystery. The sorcerer set the knights' horses loose and mounted his own which was - surprise - not lame at all. He regretted only the loss of the very valuable black opal, but as bait for a trap, it had been a spectacular success.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The lake monster continued on its leisurely circuitous route to the small craft. Two of the men at a time were paddling; the third, Gwaine at the moment, was watching its progress. When it completely submerged, the three braced themselves for the inevitable impact.

_Bam!_ The boat flew skyward, cracking and splintering and throwing the prince and his two companions several feet into the air. Arthur and Gwaine splashed back into the lake unharmed, but Lancelot was momentarily stunned, his arm breaking on impact. He vanished beneath the water.

Arthur and Gwaine surfaced, coughing and taking in big gulps of air. They looked at each other and then at their surroundings. Pieces of the small boat floated around them. The creature was a short distance away watching for the moment, and their companion was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Lancelot?" Gwaine asked.

"Don't know." The two men dove back into the water, searching, coming up only to grab another lungful of air.

A short distance away, the creature shape-shifted and took another form. She now had long pale hair with a slight greenish tinge and wore a necklace of seashells around her neck. Her eyes were sea-green in color, and the lower half of her body was that of a fish. The creature had morphed into a mermaid.

She wasted no time locating the missing knight and, grabbing hold of him, pulled him back to the surface. He came to, sputtering and coughing up lake water. She held him pulled against her, her arm locked around his chest. Though she now inhabited a female form, her strength was that of the lake monster. The knight could not have freed himself.

A moment later, Arthur and Gwaine both surfaced in a panic. Where was he? The prince, facing away, did not immediately see the mermaid. He took a deep breath, preparing to dive again. Gwaine grabbed his arm. "Wait." He spun Arthur around in the water. "Look."

Gwaine and Arthur, both breathing hard and hearts pounding from exertion, looked in confusion at the mermaid.

"Is this what you were looking for?" she asked in a musical voice.

"Yes. Yes, let him go," the prince replied.

"My arm is broken, Arthur," Lancelot said, gasping in pain. "I can't swim."

Gwaine was distractedly looking around for the lake monster. His gaze finally returned, to settle with dawning horror, on the mermaid.

"I'll take him," Arthur said, swimming closer.

"Careful, Arthur," Gwaine warned. "She's the lake monster."

Arthur stopped short, startled. "She's the what?"

The mermaid smiled. "Yes, and I have your pretty knight."

Though stunned, Arthur knew he needed to resolve this fast. He and Gwaine were tiring rapidly, both from repeated diving and from treading water. "Give him back," the prince demanded, never long on tact.

She laughed at him. "You're in my element, princeling. You have no power here."

"What do you want?" he asked, in desperation.

"A trade," she replied. "Your knight for the treasure."

"Treasure?" Arthur asked. _Click. _"You want the opal."

"Yes. Give it to me, and you can have him back. Or maybe I'll just keep him." She tightened her grip, and the knight groaned in pain.

Arthur felt for his belt. Somewhat to his surprise, the leather bag he'd placed the stone in was still attached. "You can have it," he said. To Gwaine: "Can you make it to the island with Lance?"

"Yes. What are you doing?" Gwaine asked uneasily, not liking any of it.

The prince, focused on the mermaid, did not reply. "First, release him to us, and then I'll give you the stone."

"Agreed." She nodded in Gwaine's direction. "Come take him."

The knight swam over, grabbed Lancelot, and hastily swam away from her, awkwardly pulling the knight with him.

"Arthur?" Gwaine looked back uncertainly at the prince.

"Just go. Go!" Arthur said. He and the mermaid watched as the knight swam toward the island. When Gwaine reached the shallows, Lancelot was able to walk on his own steam, cradling his arm. They both turned and looked back fearfully in the distance where the exhausted prince was treading water.

"So, your friends are safe now. Give me the stone," the mermaid said.

"All right," he panted. He reached down and tried to untie the knot with one hand while treading water with the other. The lake water had soaked the leather cord and tightened the knot. He was going to need both hands. He looked around to find a piece of wood buoyant enough to tuck under his arm. Wait. He wasn't thinking. He had a small dagger strapped to his ankle. He looked up to find the mermaid watching him.

"I can't untie the knot," he said, breathing hard. "I need the dagger that's strapped to my leg."

She nodded her head, still watching him. Arthur reached a fumbling hand down and briefly submerged, swallowing a mouthful of water. He felt himself blacking out and again sinking. Curiously, he no longer cared.

The mermaid knew the prince was drowning. Making a quick decision that would have enraged Tinsley had he known, she swam down and grabbed him and easily brought him to the surface. He was limp and not breathing. No! She did not want the prince to die. She pounded him on the back, careful not to use her full strength. He sputtered and coughed up water and opened cerulean blue eyes. Still worried, she swam rapidly to the island with him.

Gwaine swam a little ways out and took the prince from her, assisting him to shore. Though Arthur was bent over still coughing up water, he was standing by himself. Good, she thought, he would be all right.

An unpleasant thought intruded in her mind. He still had the opal. After a few moments' reflection, she smiled. He had to leave the island at some point. He couldn't stay there forever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Please read and review.**

Chapter Six

It was not quite midnight when Merlin was awakened by voices coming from Gaius' room. He sat up in the darkness. He could hear Sir Leon talking with Gaius then the king's voice. Okay, this wasn't going to be good. They would be in his room next, asking questions he couldn't answer. His stress levels were going off the chart, and he could feel tension settle in his neck. He didn't have to guess what this was about. Arthur hadn't come home.

A palace guard came up the stairs carrying a torch and entered his little room followed by Gaius, Sir Leon, and the king. Several knights stayed below. There were too many people in his room. He fought down the urge to bolt for the door.

Sir Leon did the talking. "Merlin, a short time ago, three horses came back to the stables without riders - Arthur's horses." He paused for a moment to give Merlin a chance to comment. The dark-haired servant couldn't think of anything to say. He looked blankly at Gaius.

Sir Leon continued. "Arthur told me he'd be back by midnight. It's not quite midnight, but in view of the circumstances, we're assuming some mishap has befallen them."

Uther grew impatient. "Did my son tell you where he was going?"

Okay, that he could answer. "No, he did not, Sire."

The king glared at him for a moment then turned and swept from the room. Sir Leon and the guard followed on his heels. Merlin and Gaius stood listening to everyone depart the room below.

"Gaius, I'm going to need some medicine for injuries, some food from the kitchen - I'll get that - and, um, better take a blanket."

"Don't be in a hurry to leave, Merlin. Give the knights a chance to get clear."

"Right. Gotcha."

An hour later

Merlin was riding through the moonlit forest on the mare he frequently rode. He would like to have taken three extra horses but decided not to risk unwanted attention. He had settled for one extra horse which he was currently using as a pack animal.

The warlock had noted the direction the search party had taken, which included - somewhat surprisingly - the king, and had ridden in another direction. He had fleetingly considered scrying Arthur and his companions before leaving but was too impatient to take the time. Plus, he had something else in mind.

"_Hebog dod ataf!" _he yelled loudly, his hand upraised and his eyes flashing gold. Moments later the peregrine falcon swept through the trees and flew low over his shoulder. The breeze stirred by its wing ruffled his hair. He smiled. He hadn't been entirely sure that would work, the falcon not being related to the dragon.

He halted his mare. The falcon had landed on a low branch just ahead where it sat with its head turned, regarding him with one dark eye.

"I need you to find Arthur," he said clearly, hoping the raptor understood. The large bird took off, and Merlin followed.

A short distance away, a rough-looking, powerfully-built man sat his horse, watching from cover, aided also by the darkness. Cedric, continuing to lurk around the castle (Arthur having neglected to call him off), had followed the dark-haired servant from a distance. He knew the castle guests, having departed, were no longer a threat to Arthur's servant, but he found the boy intriguing. He was fairly certain by this time that Merlin had magic and equally certain that Arthur was unaware of it. Who knew that attempting to abduct the prince would prove in the long run to be so entertaining?

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Merlin stood by the shore of the lake holding the reins of the horses in his hand. He was puzzled. He saw a clear expanse of water, the moon reflected on its surface, no boats on the lake. Nothing but a barely visible forested island in the distance. But this was where the falcon had led him. Was Arthur on the island? He felt uneasy, wishing he had taken the time to scry the trio.

"_Astyre."_ The boat glided off from shore. Merlin had selected the largest of the remaining boats, loaded the supplies and tethered the two horses.

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Cedric rode up to where Merlin had left his two horses. The bay he was on seemed content to join his stable mates. The man dismounted and absentmindedly patted the neck of Merlin's mare. He wondered why the boy hadn't brought two more horses. He looked up. He could barely make out the boat as it moved effortlessly across the lake.

The creature felt the disturbance as it lay on the bottom of the lake. It rose slowly through the layers of water drawn only by curiosity. There was no pull of treasure this time. Shape-shifting once more into a mermaid, she surfaced, swimming easily alongside the boat. Merlin, spying her, jerked back, startled.

"Greetings, Myrddin Emrys," she said, laughing at him.

"Greetings," he returned, recovering. She seemed harmless. "I'm looking for my three friends. Are they on the island?"

"Yes. Tell Prince Arthur to remember my present." She dived into the water and swam away.

"Wait!" Merlin yelled after her. "Come back!" He was answered only by silence.

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Lancelot sat dozing fitfully in the faint moonlight, his back to a tree, and his arm throbbing. Nearby lay the slumbering figures of Gwaine and Arthur. Some slight sound brought him fully awake. A figure was kneeling beside the prince. He started to shout out a warning when the figure turned toward him, his finger to his lips. It was Merlin. The knight sank back in relief. A moment later the warlock was kneeling by his side.

"Why are Arthur's clothes damp?"

"All of our clothes are damp. My arm is broken. Can you fix it?" Lancelot asked, trying with limited success to keep a pleading note out of his voice.

Merlin looked back uncertainly at Gwaine and Arthur.

"Don't worry about the two of them waking up," Lancelot said. "They're both exhausted."

"All right. _Fromum feohgiftum on faeder bearme." _A blue orb of light hovered over where the knight lay slumped against the tree. He was cradling his broken arm with his good hand.

"I'm not always successful with healing spells, but I'll try." The warlock laid his hand very gently on Lancelot's arm. "_Wel cene hole."_ His eyes flashed gold.

After a few seconds, Lancelot cautiously moved his arm. He smiled.

"It's healed?" Merlin asked.

"Yes," the knight said, gratefully. "Thank you."

Merlin swiped his hand in the air down Lance's body, drying his damp clothing. He then hastily extinguished the blue orb. "Remember not to use your arm in front of Arthur and Gwaine," he warned. "It could get me killed."

"I won't," Lancelot promised. He looked troubled. "Merlin, I don't think Arthur would ever hurt you."

"I don't know." Merlin didn't want to discuss it. "I need to dry their clothing before they both wake up." He walked over to Gwaine first then Arthur. The warlock lightly gripped his arm. To his relief, the prince did not stir. He returned to sit by Lancelot.

"How did you know we were in trouble?" the knight asked.

Merlin thought of several sarcastic replies to that but answered only that their horses had returned. "Now your turn and don't leave anything out."

Lancelot began his tale starting with what was initially thought to be a chance encounter with the man calling himself Pelham. After a few moments of listening, Merlin interrupted. "Arthur has this stone on him? Now?" he asked, faintly alarmed. At Lance's nod, Merlin said, "Hold that thought."

The warlock hastily knelt again by Arthur and moved his hand across the knot. The cord came unfastened, and he retrieved the opal. As soon as his fingers touched it, he could feel the magic rolling in waves off of it.

"Someone has placed a summoning spell on this stone."

"That would explain a lot," the knight said. He continued telling his friend about their disastrous afternoon and evening.

Merlin went cold, fear rippling through his body. "Arthur nearly drowned?"

"Yes."

That's twice, he thought. Someone wanted Arthur dead very badly. He knew there'd be a third attempt.

"Describe to me this man Pelham. Everything you can remember."

Though the dark-haired young man spoke in quiet, even tones, there was deadly menace in his voice. Lancelot regarded him for a moment in silence. It was easy sometimes to forget just how powerful the warlock was.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Have you been on this island before, Merlin?" Lancelot and Merlin were walking through the trees talking.

"No."

"Then you haven't seen the statue of the princess."

The warlock looked at the knight, not sure whether or not his leg was being pulled. "There's a statue on this tiny island?"

"Follow me, kid." The two walked a bit further and came suddenly upon a life-size statue of a woman. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties. A slender tiara rested in her curls.

Merlin gazed at her in awe. "I've heard nothing of this. Tell me about her."

"She lived centuries ago and died tragically. Or so I've heard. She was a seer."

Merlin circled her, intrigued. "Did people - consult with her?"

"Well, I would think so. That's the whole point of having the Sight."

The statue was holding out one of her lovely hands with the long tapered fingers of someone of high birth. Merlin touched it lightly with his own. "Princess," he murmured. He felt oddly moved. "Do you remember anything else?"

"There's a legend that the statue becomes flesh and blood on the night of the winter solstice. Pilgrims can ask her one question. But only one."

"But it's a long time until the winter solstice."

"Did you have a question you wished to ask her, Merlin?"

"Yes, I would like to know who's trying to kill Arthur." The warlock stood for a moment, thinking.

"Lancelot, I need you to do something for me. Go back to camp, and if either Gwaine or Arthur wakes up, stall them."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask the princess a question."

Elsewhere

The search party had halted to give their horses a breather. Sir Leon and the king were standing, their heads together, conferring.

"Forgive me if I speak out of turn, Sire, but I suggest you return to Camelot. Take several of the knights with you."

Uther was tired, frustrated, and very worried, but he recognized the truth of Sir Leon's words. They had left hurriedly, leaving no one person really in charge. The king in him must take precedent over the father.

"You're right, Leon. Assign two of your men to accompany me."

"Yes, Sire. And - we'll find them."

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If this thing works, Merlin thought, he could ask only one question. He needed to think how to word it. If he asked, "Who is trying to kill Arthur?" what if she replied that it was Pelham? He would be no better off than he was now. He could ask who left the carved box in the prince's chambers, but, again, same problem. Hmmm. How about - "How do I keep Arthur safe from the assassin?" Better. He needed to hurry. If either Arthur or Gwaine woke up, he wasn't sure how long Lancelot could stall them.

"_Berbay odothay arisan quicken_." Merlin nervously shifted from foot to foot. Would this work? Slowly the cold marble of the statue changed to soft warm flesh. The diamonds in the tiara sparkled in the moonlight, and the night breeze tousled her curls. Her cheeks were rosy, and her complexion was peaches-and-cream.

The woman turned and chided him gently with a smile. "Although time no longer has meaning for me, Emrys, I know it's not the winter solstice."

"My apologies, Princess, but this couldn't wait."

"Very well. Ask your question. What would you like to know?"

Merlin spoke slowly and deliberately, making sure he phrased the question correctly. "How do I keep Prince Arthur safe from the would-be assassin?"

"Do you have something of Arthur's that I might touch?"

The warlock thought rapidly. No, he had nothing of Arthur's with him. "He sleeps not far from here," he said, desperately. "Can you walk with me just a little ways?"

"It's not necessary, Emrys. Let me hold the opal." The opal. He rocked back on his heels and took an awkward step back. Was that Arthur's? According to Lancelot, the stranger gave it to him. So, yes. Merlin reached in his pocket and gave the princess the black opal. She held it in her hand and looked at it.

"Give me a moment." She closed her eyes. Seconds later her eyes flew open. "You are correct, Emrys. This couldn't wait until the winter solstice. There is a spy in King Uther's court. Unless you find and stop him, the third attempt will be successful."

She tried to give the stone back to him. "Keep it," he said, not caring. "Who is it?"

"That's two questions, Emrys, and - you'll need the opal to get back home." She took his hand, put the stone in it, and closed his fingers over it.

"No!" he cried, distraught, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks.

The princess had turned back into a marble statue.

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Arthur jerked awake and sat up suddenly. He thought he had heard Merlin cry out. Was he dreaming? He looked around the camp. The first rays of dawn were breaking, and he could see Gwaine sleeping nearby. Lancelot was sitting up, his brown eyes warily watching him. Odd. Something was out of kilter. He saw the blanket, the supplies, and - was that food?

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked, bounding to his feet.

"He'll be right back," Lancelot said, hastily. "Let me make you something to eat."

"Your arm is busted," Arthur replied, not breaking stride as he hurried out of camp.

Oh, great stall, Lancelot, the knight thought to himself.

The prince hurried through the trees, barely sparing a glance for the statue as he passed. His servant was sitting with his back against a tree, tears running down his face. The prince cast a hasty look around. There was no immediate threat. "What's wrong?"

Merlin dashed the back of his hand across his cheeks. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

Arthur tucked his chin and gave him an up-from-under look, not believing him. "Come make me breakfast. And - we're going to discuss this later." The prince reached down and pulled his servant to his feet, giving him a quick hug. "You can always find me, can't you, Merlin?" he said, under his breath.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Gwaine was still sleeping when Merlin made a sling for Lance's 'injured' arm. The dark-haired servant then made breakfast for three half-starved and very grateful young men and himself. He hastily washed up, and both Arthur and Gwaine helped him pack and load the boat. Everyone was anxious to get back across the lake.

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Cedric was standing at the water's edge letting Merlin's mare drink her fill when he heard the sound of approaching men and horses. A moment later, Sir Elyan and Sir Percival burst into view, followed shortly by Sir Leon and the rest of the search party. Cedric cursed under his breath.

"Cedric!" Elyan hailed him. "What are you doing here?"

"Minding my own business," Cedric replied, annoyed by both the question and Elyan's tone.

"What are you doing with Merlin's horse?" Percival asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Cedric snapped.

Sir Leon, noting the contentious direction the conversation was taking, decided to step in. "Okay, everyone calm down." To Cedric: "We were curious about the horse because Merlin is back at the castle."

Cedric looked up at him. "No, he's not." This was met by a brief silence.

Leon dismounted and walked closer to where the man was standing. "He was at the castle when we left. In his bed to be exact."

"Well, he's not there now," Cedric replied.

"Where is he then?" Leon asked, beginning to lose patience.

Cedric looked toward the distant island. He could barely make out the boat pushing off from shore. He nodded in its direction. "In that boat, I imagine, with Prince Arthur and the two knights."

Sir Leon and the knights strained to see. This was good news. Puzzling but good news. Leon was unclear why Cedric was still following the servant, the malevolent castle guests having departed, but he actually felt grateful to the man for the moment. Cedric had helped them locate the king's wild son.

"Arthur with Gwaine?" Elyan asked in an aside to Percival.

"Yeah, and Lancelot," the knight replied.

"Why was Arthur on the island in the first place?" Leon asked.

"I don't know," Cedric replied, "but you can ask him yourself in a bit."

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The lake monster, again drawn by the summoning spell on the opal, roused itself on the floor of the lake. It swam slowly up from the depths, gaining speed as it rose. Its massive teal-blue body broke the surface with a splash, and it began to undulate in the direction of the boat.

Lancelot saw it first. "Over there," he said to the other three. Gwaine and Arthur stopped rowing to look.

"That thing shape-shifts into a mermaid?" Merlin asked, awe-struck.

"Oh, yeah," Gwaine said. "It nearly killed Arthur and Lance yesterday."

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Percival swore loudly. The rest of them followed his gaze to see the massive lake monster arching through the water. Even Cedric was taken aback. He hadn't seen it during the night in even its mermaid form due to distance and darkness.

"What _is_ that thing?" Percival asked no one in particular.

"I have no idea," Elyan asked. There were exclamations of dismay and disbelief from the other knights.

"It knows the boat is on the lake," Sir Leon said, fear creeping into his voice. _Arthur. _The men watched helplessly as the creature made its way unhurriedly in the direction of the boat.

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The creature submerged and shape-shifted into a mermaid again. Soon she was swimming alongside the boat.

"I see you found your friends," she said to Merlin.

"Yes, I did," the warlock said, nervously hoping she wouldn't call him Emrys. He need not have worried. She was diverted by Lancelot. She reached in and plucked at the sleeve of his 'good' arm.

"There's my pretty knight," she said. The mermaid took a firmer hold of his arm and started pulling him to the side of the boat.

Both Arthur and Gwaine had started to protest when Merlin spoke. "Turn loose of him," the warlock said in a commanding voice, earning him a surprised look from both men.

"Oh, all right," she said, pouting. She turned her attention to Arthur, looking at him with sea green eyes.

"Did you bring my present?"

"Yes," the prince replied. "If I give it to you, does this guarantee us safe passage?"

"If I wanted you dead, princeling," she said, petulantly, "I would have killed you yesterday."

"So, safe passage then?" he persisted.

"Yes!" she agreed, "safe passage."

Merlin, who still had the opal, handed it to Arthur who in turn handed it to the mermaid. She took it happily, looking at it and admiring its blue and green fire.

"Mine. It's mine. My treasure."

Well, she seemed pleased enough, Merlin thought, hopefully. Maybe she won't kill us after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

When the boat reached shore, the knights were still in shock, looking at Arthur and his companions with near reverence. How were they even alive? Cedric rushed to help pull the boat up. Arthur got out first, also tugging on the boat. He glanced at the knights. What was wrong with everyone? They looked like they'd seen a ghost.

Lancelot started to get out. Merlin grabbed his wrist and held him in place. "Wait for help," he said, in an undertone. Merlin and Gwaine both disembarked, the warlock glancing curiously at Cedric. Who was he? The knights all seem to know him, even Arthur.

"Elyan. Percival," the prince demanded, "help Lancelot. He's injured." The two men dutifully assisted the 'injured' knight, being mindful of his arm.

"What was that - creature, Sire?" Sir Leon asked, finding his tongue.

"I don't know," Arthur replied. "Sir Gwaine can fill you in on the ride back. Did you bring us - " He saw the three horses. "Ah, good. You did."

A few moments later, Arthur and Merlin were standing by the horse the prince would be riding. They were having a whispered conversation.

"Who is he then?" the warlock asked, insistent. He needed to know who the people around the prince were. Especially now.

"His name is Cedric," Arthur replied with a shrug, hoping that would end the conversation. It didn't.

"How come I've never seen him before? Where did you meet?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? You are not my bodyguard." The prince gave his servant a haughty look which would have silenced most men. Merlin was made of sterner stuff. He regarded the prince with a mulish expression.

"All right," Arthur conceded. "He and some other men tried to abduct me. You remember." Arthur nearly laughed out loud at the look on his servant's face.

"You're employing one of your abductors?" Merlin asked, incredulously.

"Yes. Do you have a point?"

"Did he cut you?"

"No, I did not." Arthur and Merlin both jumped slightly, not realizing that Cedric had moved within hearing range. "That was a man named Tarrant."

Cedric did not want Merlin as an enemy. He knew the boy was dangerous even if no one else seemed to. He had heard about the basilisk. Who in the castle hadn't? And he had a fairly accurate idea what had happened.

The warlock glanced at Cedric, his expression carefully neutral, but said nothing. He held the horse for Arthur as the prince mounted.

"The man has more than atoned for it," Arthur said to his servant. "Not only did he save my life, he performed a service for which I am grateful." _Now drop it._

Though none of them realized it, Tinsley scryed the group in a bowl of swirling water. He watched in numbing disbelief as they rode back.

Arthur was still alive.

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Merlin, who had gotten little or no sleep, was nearly asleep in the saddle when the party rode into the stable yard. Most of the knights dismounted and walked their horses. The mare carried her drowsy rider up to her stall.

"Hey, Merlin, wake up, We're here," Gwaine said.

The warlock mumbled something and slid off his horse. He buried his face for a moment in the horse's mane. Arthur glanced at him and laughed. "Go sleep in today, Merlin. You've earned it." Lancelot silently seconded that.

One of the stable hands took Merlin's horse, and he stumbled toward the doors. Enroute, the young man tripped over his own feet and fell onto his stomach. The knights soon heard the sound of steady breathing and realized he had fallen asleep on the scattered straw. Their snickering and laughter ended abruptly when one or two of them looked up and saw the king standing in the doorway. Whispers of "the king, the king" circulated among them.

"Merlin," Gwaine hissed. "Get up." If the knight had been closer, he would have nudged the young man with his boot. Cedric hastily slipped out a side exit.

The king entered the stables and walked by Merlin's slumbering form with barely a glance. "Arthur! I'll be awaiting a full report of why your horses managed to make the midnight curfew, but you and your knights did not."

"Yes, father," Arthur replied, contritely.

Uther walked toward the exit then turned. "And perhaps you'll also be able to enlighten me as to why your servant no longer sleeps in his bed."

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Arthur's report to his father had a lot of omissions. There was no mention of the princess and her prophecy (Arthur had slept through that part) and no mention of Cedric. The prince did not feel up to explaining exactly how he had met the fellow in the first place. He would have also left out mention of Merlin, but his father had seen him sleeping on the stable floor, and it wasn't much of a stretch to figure out why.

Uther had a brief conversation with Sir Leon later to clarify a puzzling point in his son's report. "How soon after I left the search party did Merlin join it?" the king asked.

"He didn't. He was with Arthur, I mean."

The king stared. "Arthur's servant found him before we did?"

"Yes. He's done it before, Sire."

There it was again, Uther thought, the bond between Merlin and his son. Though he hated to admit it, there was something intriguing about the young man.

The Next Day

Merlin was polishing Arthur's armor, trying to catch up on his chores when he felt someone watching him. He glanced at the reflective surface of the polished metal and saw Cedric standing in the doorway.

"Did you want something?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

"Yes," the rough-looking man replied. "I want to tell you something, and I need you to trust me."

"I'm just a servant," Merlin said, shrugging, wanting the man to go away and leave him alone.

"You're a hell of a lot more than that," Cedric said in an undertone, but the warlock heard him.

What was _that_ supposed to mean? he wondered. Merlin stopped polishing the armor and studied the man for a moment. "All right," he said, slowly. "I'm listening."

"Not sure about the trust part, huh?" Cedric said, with a trace of humor. When the servant said nothing, he continued. "There is a man who sometimes comes and goes from the castle at odd hours of the night -" He stopped because all traces of studied indifference had vanished, and the boy regarded him with intense interest.

"Go on," Merlin said.

"I know that someone wants the prince dead so I followed the fellow one night. He met another man in an abandoned cabin in the woods."

"Did you get close enough to hear their conversation?"

"No. Well, I did catch a name. The one I was following goes by Stiles."

"Stiles?" It rang no bells. "Can you describe either man?"

"Well, Stiles, sure, but just because I've followed him before." Cedric described the rather colorless man with no distinguishing features.

Well, the name was helpful anyway, Merlin thought. The description seemed fairly useless. He supposed the other man could be Pelham. The warlock was surprised to find that he believed Cedric. He thanked him with more sincerity than he would have thought possible a short time earlier. Cedric nodded and walked toward the door. Merlin called after him. "Did you tell Arthur this?"

"No. You're the one who keeps him safe."

Cedric was a man who noticed things, Merlin thought. And he wasn't sure he liked that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts!**

Chapter Ten

Cedric told the knights about Stiles, and they in turn told the king. Merlin had told Gaius. Arthur had been briefed by both his father and his servant and a bit later, had questioned Cedric himself. The king had been the only one who actually knew who Stiles was, having dealt with the man in court.

Although the final decision rested with the king, Uther had called a strategy meeting with Gaius, Sir Leon, Arthur, and several top advisors in which they had discussed viable options. These were narrowed down to three: 1.) have Stiles arrested and thrown in the dungeon, 2.) have him immediately executed, and 3.) have him expelled from the Camelot court. The second option was easily the most popular but ruled impractical since no one actually believed the insipid man was the mastermind. The third option was never seriously entertained. In the end, it was decided to go with a fourth option - noninterference until they had uncovered the identity of his contact.

No one wanted to spook the man so the knights were told to stay away from him and continue guarding Arthur. The prince stayed behind after the others had left, and there was a rather tense scene between father and son on the continued need for protection (or as Arthur put it, being nursemaided by his own men.) The volatile young man stated his case rather loudly, and his long-suffering father had a brief but tempting urge to lock his son in a high tower under heavy guard. He sighed. He would hold it in reserve.

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"King Rufus is furious," Tinsley said. "And not only because the prince is still alive. The black opal is now gone from the royal treasury, and no value was received in exchange."

"In hindsight," Stiles said in a large understatement, "we shouldn't have used it."

"You got that right."

Stiles and Tinsley were carelessly using the same cabin for yet another clandestine meeting. Cedric was standing outside in heavy brush near a broken window listening.

"The king wanted me to try to get the opal back," Tinsley said, "but I laughed in his face."

Stiles gave him a shocked look.

"Okay," the sorcerer conceded, "maybe I didn't do _that_, but I'm not asking her for the stone back. She would kill me."

A little silence followed his words. Stiles frowned, perplexed. "Why would she let the prince live? She took the opal."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"Yes. The meeting between Uther and his son was not private. I overheard several courtiers talking about it afterward. She broke up their boat, and one of the knights was injured - Sir Lancelot."

"Then what?" Tinsley asked. "They swam to the island? How did they get off of it?"

"The prince's personal servant came looking for him followed by Sir Leon and the knights."

"Who's the servant?"

"I think his name's Merlin," Stiles replied. "The king refers to him as that 'idiot servant of Arthur's.'" Both men enjoyed a chuckle.

Two mistakes, Cedric thought, listening in the dark. Overconfidence and underestimating their enemy. Worse than that - failing to even recognize their enemy. The "idiot servant" was more lethal than a basilisk. There were two people left alive in a locked room which would tend to limit the possibilities. What the hell did those people think happened? Cedric refocused on the two men.

"What's his schedule look like tomorrow?" Tinsley asked.

"You mean today?" Stiles replied. "It's after midnight."

"Yeah, whatever. Today."

"Arthur and several of the knights are inspecting a bridge for possible damage mid-morning. There have been numerous complaints that it was weakened after the heavy snows a month and a half ago."

"The prince do anything alone?"

"Are you serious? After two attempts on his life? Uther has heavily armed knights following him around constantly."

"They probably tuck him in at night," Tinsley sneered.

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Gaius had decided that Arthur's chambers were now safe enough for the prince to be moved back in. The walls and floors had been scrubbed down with hot soapy water and the table replaced. None of it was done by either Guinevere or Merlin, Arthur flatly refusing to let either of them near the place until it had been cleaned.

With Gaius' go-ahead, Merlin was assigned the task of moving Arthur's possessions back. The prince told him that he needed to do it while he (Arthur) was inspecting the bridge for possible damage with a few of the knights. The prince then waited for the inevitable objections. Merlin, busily plotting the next move in his plan to keep Arthur safe and force 'Pelham' into the open, voiced none. Arthur was at first pleased not to have to deal with what he felt was stifling overprotectiveness from everyone. After several minutes passed and his servant continued to pack up his temporary quarters without comment, Arthur found that he was piqued with Merlin's seeming indifference.

"I may get killed," Arthur said clearly. He watched as Merlin folded his shirts into a neat pile.

"That's nice," Merlin said absently. He would need Lancelot. Thought to be convalescing, the knight would almost surely be left behind by Sir Leon.

"That's nice?" Arthur repeated. "Are you listening to me at all?"

"Uh huh." Lancelot was one of only three men who had actually seen 'Pelham,' assuming of course that Pelham was the contact -

Merlin felt himself seized by the shoulders and spun around. "What's nice about me getting killed?" Arthur asked him.

"What are you talking about, Arthur?" Merlin asked, confused.

"Nothing," Arthur said, laughing. "Where is your head this morning?"

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Servants helped Merlin carry the prince's possessions back to his original chambers then left him to put the room back together. Lancelot waited until Arthur had left for the stables before joining the warlock to talk strategy. They were both going on the assumption that 'Pelham' was Stiles' contact. The knight watched as Merlin put clothes into the wardrobe and made the bed.

"We need to hurry," Lancelot said. "I'll watch the door."

"Deal," his friend replied. The warlock used magic to hang a new tapestry (the previous one was burned), arrange several small sculptures and decorative pots around the room, and pile blankets into a trunk.

The two then left for the stables. Their destination was the bridge also, but they were taking a slightly different route.

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A light drizzle was falling and a low lying mist swirled through the trees as Arthur and the four knights arrived at the bridge. There had been light traffic on the road, mostly people on horseback but a few walking, carrying their meager possessions in bags, and the occasional pony-driven cart. Several of them, recognizing him, had nodded to the prince.

"Good day, Sire. Good fortune to you."

Arthur smiled and lifted a hand in acknowledgement. He and the knights dismounted, Gwaine staying near the horses, as Percival and Elyan spread out, keeping an eye on both the prince and the surrounding area.

The bridge crossed over a branch of a larger river. It had been swollen after the melt-off over a month ago but had since receded back to its usual levels. Sir Leon accompanied Arthur as the pair climbed down the embankment and over large rocks to inspect the underside of the bridge for recent damage. Several loose and missing boards were duly noted.

Lancelot and Merlin had crossed the river much further downstream and had doubled back, keeping inside the tree line as much as possible. Now on the opposite bank from the knights, the two had located a thick stand of trees from which to watch for anyone of the same size and approximate age of 'Pelham.'

"Merlin," Lancelot said.

"I see him." A lone rider had appeared on the same side of the river as themselves. He was dressed as a peasant with a large, floppy hat atop his head. He was the right size, but neither Merlin or Lancelot could get a clear view of his face. The man pulled up short of the bridge. Frustrated, Merlin chanced breaking cover and rode into the open in time to see one end of the bridge explode.

Arthur and Sir Leon, being under the bridge on the opposite end, had time to jump clear. The bridge did not collapse all at once; the damaged side fell into the river first, the rest of it falling in successive segments. The knights breathed a collective sigh of relief at seeing the prince safely out from under. Their relief was premature.

Tinsley had either not noticed or not cared that a man and his pregnant wife were crossing the bridge when he exploded it on one end. The man had been blown into the river; the woman had grabbed frantically at a crossbeam where she hung screaming as the bridge tilted. Arthur looked up and saw her. He scrambled up the weakened support trestle and swung himself up onto the top of the careening bridge, putting himself back into harm's way.

Sir Leon watched in disbelief as Arthur threw himself onto a collapsing bridge. Who _does_ stuff like that? he wondered.


	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

More of the bridge fell into the river as Arthur grabbed for the woman with one hand and held onto a crossbar with the other. He struggled to hold on as he took more and more of her weight. Gwaine, closest of the knights, raced over and edged down far enough to reach the woman. He grabbed her arm, taking part of the pressure off the prince. Percival hurried to help while Elyan swam out to rescue the woman's husband.

On the opposite bank, Merlin had ridden into the sorcerer's range of vision. "Pelham!" he yelled, desperate to divert the man's attention from Arthur.

Curious, the man turned his head and looked Merlin over carefully, seeing no threat. "My name is Tinsley," he said. "Who the hell are you?"

"Merlin."

"Oh, yes," he said, enjoying himself, "Arthur's idiot servant."

"Tell me," Merlin asked, conversationally, "how did the basilisk get into the prince's chambers?"

"I will answer that if you first answer a question for me. Who killed the creature?"

"I did," the warlock replied.

Tinsley started to laugh then stopped at something in Merlin's face.

"And _my_ question?"

"A man named Stiles put it there," Tinsley answered, distractedly, his mind trying to puzzle out if the young man could possibly be telling the truth. He took too long to work it out.

Merlin raised his hand, palm outward. The warlock's eyes flashed gold, and the sorcerer flew backwards off his horse. The terrified animal reared and plunged then galloped off in a panic. Merlin turned his horse around then pelted back to rejoin Lancelot, hoping no one had seen him but the knight.

Someone else had. Cedric had ridden onto the scene in time to see Arthur's servant kill the sorcerer. He had no time to think about it. He leaped off his horse and hurried to help Gwaine pull the woman to safety. The knight and the woman ended up sprawled on the ground, a light rain falling on their faces.

There was a loud crack and a splintering sound as the rest of the bridge broke apart, and boards and railing plunged into the swirling river below. Percival tried to brace himself as he took Arthur's full weight. Cedric hurried to assist, and the two of them pulled the prince to safety.

Sir Leon had climbed back up the embankment and stood looking down at Arthur as he sat with his head down and his arms encircling his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Are you all right, Sire?"

The prince nodded."Yeah." His voice was nearly inaudible.

After watching the prince for a few moments, Cedric looked toward the woods where Merlin had vanished a short time earlier. He shook his head. The most dangerous man in Camelot and Arthur had him fetching his breakfast and walking his dogs.

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Later that afternoon, a frightened Stiles hastily packed his bags. Arthur had returned unharmed and Tinsley was dead. He was desperately hoping no one knew of his involvement, but he wasn't taking any chances. He hurried down a corridor only to see the prince's servant walking toward him. Merlin, wasn't it? He relaxed; the boy was harmless. There was another man who moved up beside the servant. Stiles had no idea who he was.

"Allow me." Cedric shoved Merlin to the side and out of the way. The knife he flicked spiraled end over end down the corridor and buried itself hilt deep into Stiles' heart. The spy fell to the floor.

A few moments later, Arthur and Sir Leon were surveying the scene. After a quick glance down at the dead man, Arthur looked Merlin over. His servant seemed unharmed. Cedric pulled his knife free of the man's body and wiped it on his clothing.

"I'll have this cleaned up, Sire," Leon said. To Cedric: "I suggest you make yourself scarce."

The man nodded and left.

A few days later

Merlin finished eating breakfast and got up to rinse off his plate.

"Merlin, a new horse was purchased for your use," Gaius said. "I was asked to give you the message."

"Thanks, Gaius," the warlock said, looking pleased. "I'm surprised Arthur found the time to get it. He's been so busy."

"It's - not from Arthur."

Merlin looked at him curiously. "Who's it from then?"

"That's not for me to say."

A short time later, Merlin was standing in the stable yard looking at a chestnut brown horse with a cream colored mane and tail. He delicately stroked its velvet nose in wonder. The horse was beautiful. He saw a stable boy standing nearby watching him. "What's his name?"

The boy shrugged. "Whatever you decide on."

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Two weeks later, Merlin was astride his horse, Orion, as he, Arthur, and the knights rode around fallen stone and mortar and through the mountain pass.

The End


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